The air in the med bay was still and humming with faint static.
Zayn sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands—hands that had channeled a woman’s soul, mind, and memories through his own body. He didn’t know where he ended and Yanyu began anymore.
“Don’t go in there too fast,” Tamara warned behind him as he stood.
“I need to see her.”
She nodded reluctantly and opened the secured doors.
Pod Three hissed open with a sterile exhale.
Inside, Yanyu floated in pale blue gel, wires snaking into her scalp and chest. Her eyes were closed, but she twitched every so often—murmuring things in a language even Eris hadn’t decoded yet.
Zayn stepped closer.
And then— Her eyes flew open.
Bright gold. Glowing. Not quite hers.
“Zayn?” Her voice was barely a whisper—but it echoed inside his
